


Grendel

by medical_mechanica, Verdin



Series: Three Colors: Black [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-06-30 15:22:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15754428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/medical_mechanica/pseuds/medical_mechanica, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verdin/pseuds/Verdin
Summary: For Ardynoct week day 3.What if Ardyn never managed to leave Angelgard?And Noct came for him?And...Sadness. That's what.





	Grendel

It had been foretold. Noctis, crown prince of Lucis, knew the Prophecy just too well, and he also knew that this was not how things were supposed to be happening. In his age, he should have been King. In his age, he should have set an end to the Scourgebearer, cleaned the star of his evil, only that this particular snake had never risen its ugly head. That his dad was still on the throne, praise be the Astrals, long may he rule and all that, but this was not how it was supposed to go.

He had left the boys behind. “I'm going fishing,“ the best way to avoid further questions. They were all too willing not to partake the trip in his boat and remain at the luxurious resort of Galdin Quay.

 

\--

The air was heavy. Thick, like before a storm, joints aching in rusting sockets, gathered in rainwater that pooled and drained. Thin rectangle of light burnt into ancient retinas informed that, no, there was no storm, but a perfect summer's day after day after day after day after day after d-

Nails against stone and why now, was the air so weighted? As it had been before? Had always been? Muscles that had stilled, never atrophied, in a body what was no longer a body, that had sunk deep into the stone slabs that kept it. Flesh made into grout, keeping the cell whole. Eyes that blinked that were not eyes, but misused apertures receiving light. Sound that was distant vibrations washed away by waves, signalling the presence of the absent jailer. The infinite cries of gulls...

And a mechanical hum?

The sound of the approaching boat's motor was the first thing to rouse the creature that resided in Angelgard in centuries.

 

\--

_This is all?_

The prince didn't know what he had expected. Maybe the slightly oily feeling air that stood over the magic runes of the campsites, maybe something more sinister than stones and ruins. This... was nice, in a way, nice and boring. Might indeed be a good spot for fishing, after all was said and done.

 

\--

Footsteps. A hallucination; soles on gravel _crunching_ too loudly or just loudly enough. Not electric Astral presence but motal feet that had wandered _where_?

_Outside?_

Weight in the air, heavier and heavier, birthed the form of a person on the floor, a blanket covering a living corpse. _Healer._

This place was dead. No birds. Not even insects. _Like walking over a corpse_ , Noctis thought and corrected himself immediately. _Corpses are brimming with life._

“Hello?“ he said into the still air, just to hear something. It sounded like the voice of a stranger, young and insecure.

A song rang out, three notes, but no. A word. One word. Not a hallucination. Stirring, fabric on stone rustling. Him - _A_ him, this form on the floor, nails on stone, _he_. And outside was a voice, not a song, not a word. Outside was a 'hello'.

The hallucination would pass, like the others.

It did not, and the man splayed on the stone floor shifted, arching up like old wood. It was repeated then. “Hello?“ was said again, to test if the air carried sounds here.

Noct wiped the sweat from his face. How was it so hot here? _It's getting worse with every step. Maybe he isn't here anymore._

Maybe he's long gone, and the whole prophecy was nothing but a lie. Maybe he's never been here at all. Noct's nails ran along the rough surface of the stones. _Old. So very old._ Just as the prince thought to leave, a breath more like a cough faintly echoed from the depths of the chamber. Aged stone slabs sat stacked up, only part of the way removed, indiscernible by age or effort.

For the first time from inside the tomb, Ardyn's ears worked. Piles of cloth rumbled against stone by the sound of antiqued vocal chords, as Ardyn Lucis Caelum tried utter words for the first time in ages. Magic was a stuck fog in the air, choking the voicebox. Sitting up, he froze for several moments. Fingertips scratched and scratched stone testingly. Distinctively solid, like the voice outside.

"This was a mistake." Noctis said to himself, because he needed to admit that to _someone_ , and he wasn't used to being alone anymore. But then, he only went fishing. Nothing to tell to the others, right? There was nothing here. Nothing.

Down in the depths of his stomach, the little worm of fear woke and began crawling.

 _Everything_ had been a mistake.

The uncertain shifting of cloth and another breath, rasping and louder, sounded from behind the stone.

Ardyn's chest heaved, staled lungs shaking out dust and ink, seeping from his nose. An ancient route in his brain moved his hand to retrieve a handkerchief at the sensation, but found a deteriorated gossamer in his place.

 

A ragged breath, only followed by a soft '-oh?' sounded in return.

 

On the other side of the stone, a sword was drawn from nothingness. Banished again, leaving an uncertain empty hand.

"I am..." _No. You're not. You've never been. They've always been real, even if the others were too blind to see._ "...here. I'm here." _Yes. That was a better way to end this sentence_.

A longer, ever more laboured breath, preceeded away coarse rasp that was reassessing it's abilities.

"Here?" Rattled the wall, the very tomb coming to echo the prince's words.

"Here." Noctis repeated, walking faster, following, searching an entrance through the stone. Finding nothing. Finding something, then, between two larger blocks. An opening, too high to see through, even on tiptoes. It did not look like a product of decay, but... a window?

Muscles twitched, coming out of a stasis, and their body convulsed, falling back down to stone in a fit of coughs. Unable to catch sight of the picture of youth that peered it's way into the tomb. Sunlight passed in a single small strip of gold across the chamber, a sundial whose intent was madness. It illuminated the scattered pile of animated gauze and sunbleached bone that lay in it.

Noises outside told of something being built, a ladder maybe, or a stairway, or a gibbet, and then a part of the gold went, brought shadow and a word and the word was _Hello_ , hesitant and low and outside of his head, of his memory. Probably outside. Perhaps.

Small shadows were wriggling their way through the walls again, that formed into beings, one being; only one appeared before Ardyn, still a shadow, raven cloth and jet hair, jumping out from the hole in the wall and coming to land agily paces away.

Red matted hair sat in a sea of threadbare tatters, golden eyes both dead yet shining through the tangles. Noctis would recall thinking he should have looked older.

The body that graced the floor was gently quaking -shuddering, constant and silent. Gold eyes narrowed, clean line arrows all pointed directly at the prince's face; halo backlight forms through soft hair.

"I'm," a dragged out breath from the Accursed, shaking in time with his body, "here." The mimic carried multitudes.

_No. No no no. This was not how it was supposed to be. A monster, or the beautiful creature he had seen in the murals since he was a child, and they would meet eye to eye, swords blazing, and it would be some kind of glorious, and not..._

"Ardyn?" the shadow said, his voice breaking. That word was new, but old.

 

Eyes blinked slow understanding at the name. Another long, drawn out breath from the vibrating mass on the floor. "Yeeesss?" The only semblance of a flourish in his speech carried the dried husk of a voice. "Are you," a sentence patched together through breathy failings, " _Him_?"

 

“I've come to end you.“ Even more hesitation. “I think, at least. But you are...“

 

A grin worn by a face that hadn't been observed in far too long looked _wrong_.

 

"At _last_... " Ardyn croaked, dipping his head downward.

 

“What?“ Two steps back, until he hit the wall. “This is not what...“ Noctis looked around. Looked at his own hands. A sudden surge of terror filled his heart.

“They lied to us all along, didn't they? For all these generations...“

 

"Please," for the first time during their exchange did the aged voice hold firm, "end it." The huddled creature sat still in the center of the tomb, head bowed, waiting.

 

“Wait.“ The prince took a heavy breath. Shook his head to wake from this nightmare. “What?“

A deep sigh emanated throughout the tomb, and whatever latent magic that sat in the air stirred. The face that came to look up at the prince was less tired as it was crazed. "End this, good prince of Lucis. Like the ones before..." It was as if, by proximity, his evil grew, albeit constrained by the confines of ancient wards about him.

"Once and for all and..."

He reached for his blade, found it already in his hand, drawn out of well-trained reflex at Ardyn's gaze, found it steady even though his heart was trembling. "The ones before? The fuck does that mean?"

The tattered bunch of rags crawled forward, as the crazed look in the golden gaze meeting his own grew. "End it, _please_. Only the one-," a gasp, and the wretch was at his feet, "One True King, can end it."

Noct bit his lip. Bowed down to the sorry creature at his feet and laid a hand onto a cheek that had not known another's touch for ages. "Am I your king, Ardyn, even if I wear no crown? Will this be enough?"

The ancient man, eyes wide like plates, with a nerve unlike the prince had ever seen, gripped the forearm and nodded. "Kill me."

_I have never killed a man. No, don't tell him. You have killed great beasts, and in theory he's a worse beast than all of them, and... nobody should live this way, right?_

He stood, searching the golden madness for some, any sign that the being was doubting, that the black oil that ran in heavy tears over his cheeks now - _Astrals, is this the essence of the Scourge?_ \- was anything but _tears_. Nodded, in the end.

"I shall make it quick then."

The young man's determination changed the air in room, wards compressing and expanding around the two, mystical breeze in the air like the beat of the Draconian's wings. Ichor began to slough off of the creature before him, a reaction to the winding forces in the tomb. In spite of this, relief shook the Accursed, who dropped his head in prayer, or preparation, Noctis would never be sure.

_First breath._

Find your position. Slightly to his side, slightly before him.

_Second breath._

Raise the sword.

"I will remember you, Ardyn, Healer of--"

Strike true.

_Third breath._

 

It must have been the third breath, or the thirtieth, when Noctis came to his senses again, his sword still in hand, dark with the Accursed's blood. The body at his feet barely looked like one anymore, only held together by this ancient curse that was burning away like the edges of dry paper, leaving fabric and shriveled skin and small motes of dust dancing in the fading light.

"I'm sorry." The young prince dropped his sword. Knelt down, trying to find words for a prayer, a proper way to send off the lost soul. Found nothing but the taste of bile in his throat.

 

***

 

"Fishes wouldn't bite today?"

"Nah."

"You okay, Noct? Been out for a while."

"Just tired..."

The long shower he took that night didn't help him to feel any cleaner. The two cans of beer he cracked open while standing under the hot water helped a little. _The ones before..._ The fuck was that about?

 


End file.
